Draco in Russia
by May La Nee
Summary: Draco lost all he has and goes to Russia to return as an entirely different person.
1. Draco in Russia Introduction

**Introduction**  
This story is part of an RP that has died by now. I was RPing with Theresé (tu-RÈZ-uh), also known as Tess. She wanted to play herself, and I liked RPing as Draco. She liked Snape, and yeah... I like Draco and SLASHSLASHSLASH So we decided she would get with Draco first, and with Snape after. And we would find Draco a boyfriend. ;D

Tess is an exchange student. Her parents were friends of Narcissa and Lucius, but they were sent to Azkaban and she was brought up by Muggles in Sweden (RL Tess is Swedish so yeah) Draco picked her up from the airport, showed her Diagon Alley, bought her a pretty dress, told her about Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley and how much they sucked, had an encounter with them that pretty much proved what Draco told her, and then they went to Draco's place.

They fell in love, and later in school she got pregnant. Oh jeeze.  
She was behind in all classes because she was raised by Muggles and she had the age to be in her fifth year, so she got a big fat schedule and because she was in Slytherin, she got a lot of extra classes from Snape.  
He liked her a lot, but she was a student so... no chance...

A little while before Christmas, Draco received a Howler. Let me see if I can find it for you...  
Oh it's quite a long bit... hope you don't mind...

* * *

She suddenly felt hurt by his words, but nodded as a reply. She couldn't force herself to say goodbye, instead she just got caught by this uneasy feeling, and ran out from his office with tears coming from her eyes.  
Oh why, WHY had she fallen for him? A teacher? And why was he so wonderful?!  
She went to the Slytherin Common Room.. And then she went into the girl dorm, she laid on her bed and fell asleep.  
She woke up when the giggly girls arrived, they had bought her candy and lots of other stuff's since she had given them some money. She didn't want to see Draco now, so she stayed in the girls dorm until they all had fallen asleep.. "Tomorrow will be another long day for you" she thought to herself, Snape's words to her.. Yes, tomorrow.. a long day.. since she had decided that tomorrow - she would tell Draco about the babies.. Their babies.  
The next morning, everything went on as usual. A shower, makeup, fixing her hair and the giggly girl's hair. Then, putting on her robe and some perfume, then with the two girls on each side of her, he went to the Great Hall to eat breakfast... and talk to Draco.

* * *

"Good morning, gorgeous," Draco said to Tess as she sat next to him at the Slytherin table as the owls entered with the mail.  
Draco's attention was immediately caught by them, since usually his mother send him a lot of sweets but she hadn't done that in a few days.  
His eyes grew wide with shock as he saw his father's owl approach with a big fat red envelope in it's claws. The bird seemed to be in quite a hurry, dropped the letter and flew out as soon as possible. A few other owls followed it's example and left, too.  
Most other students looked at the Howler as well, surprised to see Draco receive one. He usually only got presents!  
Draco carefully picked it up, sure this was a joke of some sort. Why on earth would his parents send him a Howler? Before he could open it though, it opened itself and hung in mid-air and started talking in Lucius' calm, threatening voice, only a lot louder than usual:

Unfortunately I feel obliged to inform you your mother passed away last Tuesday, leaving us both in deep grief. However, before she drew her terminal breath she managed to inform me about certain matters concerning you, and I must say I am not too pleased with these. Your attitude and bad school results, along with our bad choice of friends and words in certain occasions made me realise I no longer wish to be acquainted with you.  
Before we exchange our final words with each other I would like to take you to Russia for Christmas, since I promised you I would last year.  
You may wonder why I am sending this to you in a Howler. My dear boy, the only explanation is that I do not want you to brag about me one more time and it would be most pleasant for both of us if you would be reminded of this every once in a while by your dear schoolmates.

Sincerely,

L. Malfoy, Ministry of Magic, Head of Department of International Magical Cooperation

Draco's eyes had grown huge after the first line, and the entire great hall had went silent.

* * *

Theresé didn't know what to do since her eyes already were filled with tears.. Narcissa... was… dead? She opened her mouth, but closed it again.  
Then she knew just what to do.  
"Draco.. Draco.. Come with me. Lets get out of here first of all... Okay… Draco?"

* * *

Draco didn't nod, didn't reply, didn't do anything. The echoes of his father's voice were still echoing in his head.  
"...drew her terminal breath..."  
I should come with Theresé now...  
"...no longer wish to be acquainted with you..."  
He stood up, and felt his arms and legs shake. It didn't get through, though. He knew he was shaking but somehow he wasn't aware of it, like it was a dream. His eyes were wide with shock, and he didn't even realise everybody was staring at him in amazement, even the teachers.  
He followed Theresé like he knew he should, but wasn't aware of his own actions. It all felt so surreal.

When they had left the Great hall and were alone she embraced Draco, held him tightly in her arms and cried. "Oh... I'm... I'm so sorry... I just can't imagine how you feel right now..." She was also in shock... Narcissa had died... and how would she now be able to tell him about their babies that she carried? Could she still do it? She had to!

* * *

Okay so... enough of the RP... TADAAAA my story begins. Tess went to Snape's place and had lots of sex with him while Draco was feeling miserable abroad. ;D


	2. Chapter 1 On the train

PART ONE - On the train

PART ONE - On the train  
Draco sighed, as he dragged his feet forwards. He was now at the train station in London, and he was NOT looking much forward to the upcoming two weeks in Russia. Sure, he loved Russia, and he had always wanted to go there, but to go with his father...? After that Howler..? The mere thought of it made the embarrassment and sadness return, and as he fought the tears he saw his father appear in the crowd. Unlike other times, he was not happy or proud to be seen with him or to see him. No, not at all. What he wanted to do most now was go back to Hogwarts, see Theresé again and just be there for her.

Lucius gave a quick nod as to confirm he spotted him, and then turned around.  
Draco felt tears well up in his eyes. Earlier, when they met up for Christmas, his father would make sure his bags would be brought along, he would say his name, he would talk to him and all that... Those little things he used to take for granted. None of that now. Just a cold nod, with a cold glance and a cold feeling in his abdomen. It was as if the nervousness, the knot tied in his intestines, had frozen at the sight of this man.

Draco rushed to catch up with him, carrying his trunk. He never carried his trunk himself! What was this bullshit? That his father didn't want him anymore as a child, did not mean he had to ignore him as a person! Did it? For Christ's sake, it's nearly Christmas!

When he managed to catch up on the man, he had to nearly run to keep walking next to him. Just as he opened his mouth to greet him, Lucius started talking:  
"Don't talk to me boy, none of your words matter to me."  
Draco was about to say something in reply to express his frustration as he pressed his fingernails in the palm of his hand to try and remain calm, when Lucius continued, almost hissed: "stop skipping like a bloody dingo and walk a few steps behind me, so it's not so obvious we're acquainted."  
Draco's eyes grew large, and he stopped walking for a moment. Wait... what? Did he really just... Did he... Just... He stared ahead in confusion for a moment, before he realised his fath-... the man walked on.

Then he shook his head and found him again with his eyes and walked in his direction... Wait. Was that even him? No, it wasn't... It was some random goth bloke he'd never seen before. He stood still again, and looked behind him. Maybe he went that way..? He took a few steps in that direction, not thinking clearly. Wait, no... this is where they came from. He turned around again, feeling completely lost in this crowded place full of awkwardly bright coloured wet jackets, happy voices, smells of snacks, people walking fast, people walking slow, people sitting against the walls, on the stairs, getting ready for the holidays.  
"Goddamnit..." he mumbled in a panicky voice, as he noticed the tears were blurring his sight, making this place feel even more alien. "...where the fuck did he go…?"  
He looked around, took a few steps to the right, looked around again, walked to the wall near the hotdog stand, turned around again, walked towards the stairs… Where to go? He hadn't told him what platform to go to... Or if they were going by train in the first place! What if he was outside? What if he wasn't? What if he had just ruined his last chance of saying goodbye to his father, that didn't want him anymore, simply because he was shocked by words he could have expected?  
He decided to go straight on in whatever direction they were going in in the first place, and walked fast to catch up on him… if he was there. Please, let him be there, please, please, please. He increased his pace, staring around like he was surrounded by hostile pixies ready to attack him, and pushed his nails deeper in his hands trying to stop his tears. Please, if there IS a God up there… Please, if you can hear me... Please, I know we haven't met before... But please... PLEASE just let him be there? Just this once? I won't bully people anymore... I will always do my homework myself… I will buy Theresé lots of pretty things in Russia... I won't make fun of people anymore… I will pay better attention in class... I will be so much better if he's just THERE and nowhere else, ...please?  
He was full-on crying now, but walked on as if he had a train to catch. Which could very well be the case.

Again, a black coat... No, not him. A cold voice to the right!? No, not him either...  
He went straight on, entering a hallway that seemed almost abandoned compared to the busy one he had just left. Still, no sign of his father. He was about to give up, kick his trunk aside, sit down, maybe next to that bum over there and just... give up on life all together, when he saw a glimpse of another black coat. One with sleek silvery blonde hair on it, this time. He increased his pace again, since he almost stood still when considering giving up, and ran to the platform the person had entered... And yes! It was him!  
A broad grin appeared on his face when he noticed he had actually found him back, his father, the man he always looked up to, respected, nearly adored, and walked up to him, filled with hope about these holidays. Maybe there was a God?

"Hey," he started, as he stood right behind Lucius who was now about to board the train. No reply. Lucius just went on boarding the train and commanding the people in front of him. Draco stood frozen for another second, when he realised he should get moving as a whistle blew near his ear. He jumped on board of the train that was starting to make noise, and dragged his trunk in after him. He looked to the left, looked to the right.. Both sides were just long, narrow hallways, with doors on one side and windows on the other. What compartment would Lucius have entered?

Draco decided to just take the right side to look for him first, since that was the most obvious choice to him. As he looked through the glass of the compartment doors, his mind drifted off a little. What if he had TRIED to lose him? What if he had indeed heard him just now, as he boarded the train, and chose to ignore him? All he had to do was look around, to show he knew he was there, to get that little bit of confirmation, that little spark of hope… but no, nothing. Nothing at all! He felt something warm drip down his hand, and realised he had now pressed his nails in so deep he had pierced his skin. He didn't really care, though. All he wanted right now was someone to be here for him.  
Hello! Only a month ago he had lost his mother, and he hadn't even been there for the funeral or anything! And in the very same letter, his father had kicked him out and basically told him he didn't like him as a person. In that SAME LETTER! That minute he had lost his entire family, all his pride, all his everything, since all he really had in the world was his family.

He had to blink a few times to stop the tears from blurring his sight before he could see what was behind this window... Someone in a black coat, but that didn't mean anything... Yes, it was him. He slid the compartment door open, and wondered what to do. Sit next to him? Sit in front of him? ... leave and find a compartment of his own..? He looked at him, holding his -heavy- trunk in both hands with an expression on his face he hadn't worn since he first saw his father kill someone.

Lucius gave him an annoyed glare, clearly not pleased with his former son's actions. Why did his boy follow him around like a lost puppy? Why did he cling to him like this? Why did he resemble his mother so much..? Narcissa, his beautiful sweet flower, had not informed him of her condition... One day he had returned from work and found her in the library, laying on her sofa with a book on her abdomen as if she had merely fallen asleep. He had went over to her, stroked her perfect blonde curls from her face, stroked a finger over her lips and noticed they were awkwardly cold...  
And this boy, their child, their only child, reminded him of that moment. It was as if he could feel the shock narrowing his throat, tying knots in his abdomen and made him feel cold and lonely inside all over again. Why hadn't she told him? She had probably been embarrassed... Even though there was no reason to be embarrassed, you can't be embarrassed because of an illness like that...

When his mind started to register what his eyes tried to make him see, he saw that boy sit in front of him. Staring at him longingly, with an expression that much resembled Narcissa when she had wanted him to finally show 'something like affection, for a change'. He put on his mask again, the mask he always put on when he cared but didn't want to show it, and stared at Draco with that expression. He knew the boy hated it, he knew he couldn't recognise it as sadness...Which was a good thing, otherwise he would probably be embarrassed. Not as embarrassed as Draco though, the boy seemed to be blushing. No, that wasn't a blush.. He had been crying. What was that on his hands, were they bleeding? Ridiculous child. What do you make your hands bleed for? Feh, you should get dressed boy, Russia is cold, much colder than what those clothes you're wearing are supposed to help.

None of these thoughts were actually pronounced. There was a cold tension in the air, tying them together but pushing them away at the same time.

Draco stared at his father, trying to figure out what exactly this expression meant. It was his usual cold glare, but he couldn't just be cold right now, could he? After all, he hadn't done anything wrong. On the contrary! When Theresé had arrived at their place, he had been a true gentleman. He had bought everything for her, wand, clothes, books, jewellery... He couldn't help that she had basically jumped him... He couldn't help his mother had died!? Was he really accusing him of that? Was that what that glare meant? It'd better not! He wasn't to blame, he didn't even know what killed her! And to be honest, he didn't have the nerve to ask about it, either.  
Should he tell him... That... He had gotten Theresé pregnant? That she was now carrying his twins? No, this just didn't seem the right moment...

They sat opposite each other silently for hours and hours. The train went from Britain to France, and in France they had to take another train to go to Budapest, and from there they could get on the final train, the train to St. Petersburg.

Not a single word they said to each other, not one! The urge to cry, for Draco, was becoming stronger each second, since there were so many things he wanted to say... But he didn't have the guts to. Things like "What's your problem?" "I'm so happy to see you!" "Why aren't you talking to me?" "Why are you taking me anyway?" "I hate you!" "Can I have a drink?" "What are we going to do in Russia?" and a lot of other things... But he just kept silent all the way, getting colder and colder as they went up from France.

He didn't bother searching his trunk for a warmer coat though.. Because he knew he didn't have one.

It was becoming dark fast. There was no clock in this shabby train, nor was there a woman with a trolley selling sweets like there was on the Hogwarts Express. Draco hadn't eaten anything since breakfast... No, that was a lie. He hadn't eaten anything since dinner the previous night, since he only had a cup of tea for breakfast. He had been so nervous he couldn't possibly take in anything else.

The train came to a halt, and Lucius got up. Not until now had Draco noticed his father hadn't brought anything but his cane... What was he up to? He knew it would be wiser not to ask. It was probably something he didn't want to know.


	3. Chapter 2 Meeting the locals

PART ONE - On the train

PART TWO - Meeting the locals  
Draco followed Lucius out of the train, and again had to rush to keep up with him. Suddenly, half way the platform, Lucius came to a halt and Draco bumped into him.  
He turned around, bend forward and -with an expression that suggested Draco was a smelly beggar- said: "Listen, you bug eyed ferret... I don't want you to disturb me when I'm doing my thing around here so here's some money..." -he took a random amount of Knuts from his pocket and pushed them in Draco's hands- ".. and I don't want to see you anymore, alright? We may meet again in two weeks."  
Draco's eyes widened, and he could feel his heart pound in his throat. Was he really just going to leave him here? Completely lost... With Wizard money that wasn't good for anything in this Muggle world... surrounded by people speaking a language he barely knew...  
"You can't just dump me here!" he said in a panicky and frustrated tone, but Lucius had already turned around: "I didn't," he replied, "I dumped you with a Howler over a month ago. Enjoy your time in Russia..."

He walked away, his last words echoing through Draco as if he was a deep well with low water someone threw a pebble in. Final words... Did this mean it was over? Was he ever going to see him again? How on earth was he going to manage in Russia for two weeks? In the winter!? He knew it was pointless to follow him now, since he would just try to lose him again...

Slowly he started walking, just straight on. He didn't know anything here... How was he supposed to know where to go? He had no clue how to enter the wizard world here... And he couldn't just walk up to people and ask hem, not in the last place because he didn't know the language.

He stared at the small snowflakes pass by. Some twirled in the wind, some went straight down. The clouds of his breath, that started to appear in a slower pace because he was now breathing slower and deeper to feel the cold sting in his lungs, making him realise he was still living, made the nearest snowflakes melt a little, but they also made them look like they were in a little bubble of white shiny air, dancing around because they had finally been freed from the cloud up in the sky that had them captured for so long.  
It was as if he was in a trance, watching the flakes closely without really thinking about anything but their pure white perfection.

"Hello." Draco looked up. He didn't know he had been walking, nor did he have any clue where he was... He did know that the boy who was talking to him was probably a local because he had a thick accent, making his l's sound bloated.  
"Hey..." He replied doubtfully, giving the local a good look. He had dirty blonde hair that had -clearly- been dyed that way, a perfectly 'clean' face, an open and curious glance and clothes that didn't look nearly as shabby as he expected them to be.  
"You not from here?" the local asked, looking at Draco's clearly not 'Russian winter resistant' clothes and his trunk. Draco didn't like the way the boy stared at him... It was as if he was judging him, testing him almost.  
"No, I'm not." Draco replied in a bitchy one. What the hell did this guy want from him?

Now he was standing still, he realised how cold it really was out here. The clouds leaving is mouth as he exhaled were actually blurring his sight. It was as if he could see her face there in the cloud. Theresé's face. She was looking sad, as she had when they said goodbye. Her beautiful eyes had been big and sparkly, as if she was on the edge of crying... He had seen it, but not realised it since his own problems were taking up most of his common sense then. But right now, this very moment, he would give the world just to ask her how she was doing. She was carrying his children! What would she be doing right now? Would she have a good time? She should. She should, because if he could hold that thought of her smiling and enjoying herself, he could feel a little bit happier.

"Vhere you going?" the local asked. 'Oh, persistent, aren't you?' Draco thought to himself, as he flared a nostril. He was shivering now. "Away," he answered as harsh and annoyed as he could.  
"Away from vhat?"  
This guy was such a pain... Draco was about to just push him aside and walk on, when the stranger offered something he couldn't resist: "No, I know… You look cold. Just come and ve vill drink, ok? Den ve talk. You need to be varm. "  
Draco replied with a forced annoyed "Sure" and they went into a bar not far from where they met.

"My name is Dimitri," the local said, right before he ordered them both something Draco couldn't make out. "Draco," Draco replied with a nod, feeling his limbs warm up and trade in their senselessness for tingles because of the temperature in the room.  
Their drinks were done, and Draco gave 'Dimitri' a weird look as the strong scent of alcohol basically hit him in the face. "Nastrovye," Dimitri said, as he raised his glass to Draco and then emptied it in his throat in one go.

Draco stared at him in amazement. How old was this guy? Seventeen? Eighteen? And he was drinking... strong alcoholic beverages on the middle of the day...?  
Oh, what did he care. Theresé wasn't here, and she was the only one who would give a shit. "Nast... Cheers." he said, as he tossed his drink in like the other boy had done. First, he didn't feel a thing... But then, he could feel every bit on the inside of his throat and his abdomen warm up in a strong, tingly way that made his eyes widen and start tearing.  
"You never had vodka before?" Draco shook his head, trying not to cough. Great. This was his first pure-Russian experience, and he was making a fool of himself already. "You should. Hav' another," Dimitri offered, and before Draco could decline his glass was full again. The bartender had seen Draco's reaction, and mixed his drink with some water. "Vhere are you from?"

Together they talked and drank, until the sun set. Talking to Dimitri was good fun. His words sounded harsh, and yet the sound of them were relaxing to Draco. His voice was smooth, and as slick as the bottle they were drinking from. He seemed cheerful and understanding, even though he probably couldn't make out half the words Draco used. Draco, too, had some trouble understanding Dimitri's replies, since he threw in a Russian word every now and then. But overall, they could keep up with each other and they seemed to get along really well.

"I thiiink you have enough to drink," Dimitri said after a while when he noticed how dizzy Draco looked, and helped him up. "Ve should go, I know nice place."

Together they left the bar, Draco leaning heavily on his new friend, in the streets that darkened quickly. "I can take you to friends, ok?" Draco raised a shoulder... which almost caused him to lose balance and fall. "Sure," he said again, closing his eyes and allowing Dimiri to lead him. He didn't realise how long they've been walking. Until at one moment, he felt gentle warm flames at his feet. Were they about to use Floo Powder? Yes, they must... He looked down, and indeed: bright green flames danced at their feet. Dimitri said something incomprehensible for Draco's British ears, and before he knew it he was on his knees in some other fireplace, coughing because of the ashes.

"What... You're a wizard?" he managed to ask in between coughs. Dimitri watched Draco struggle to get up and remain balanced, as he replied. "Yes, and I know you are vhen you talk about Muggles." Draco was surprised. Had he really used that word as he talked to this guy he barely knew? Ah, what did it matter. He could hardly remember anything from the conversation since he had constantly focussed on NOT showing he didn't like vodka very much at all.

After getting the soot from his face and throat, Draco was able to take a good look around in the place he just landed in. It was a small square room, 'decorated' with concrete and wood. Yes, just that. There was no wallpaper, no paintings, hell, not even a window. There was just a door, a round table with six chairs stuffed around it and four people staring at him curiously.

One of them seemed almost double Dimitri's age, and had a gross black little goatee to make up for his slightly receding hairline. In his eyebrow dangled a silver ring.  
The second had brown hair in a sloppy little ponytail in his neck, that reminded him of seaweed outside of the water.  
The third had a bright white mohawk that was neon green at the top, and a bright white goatee to go with it. He, too, had a silver ring in his eyebrow, but he also had a silver piercing below his lower lip.  
Number four looked a lot like Dimitri in style. He, too, had hair that stood up in all directions, only his was brown and he looked like he lost his razor a week ago.  
On the table were a pack of cards, a lot of small glasses and a big bottle of -supposedly- vodka.

"These are my friends: Goran, Ivo, Iwan, and Viktor." The men looked at Draco curiously, and Draco looked back at them nervously. He decided to give his poor Russian a chance to prove itself, and asked "Vui govoritye po Angliski?" There. Now. Was he supposed to add anything...? Oh, of course! What about his own name!? Idiot. "My name is Draco." The four men looked at each other frowning, before looking at Dimitri accusingly. Dimitri replied in words Draco couldn't make out, and then sat down at the table. The four men frowned at Draco angrily, but Dimitri patted the chair next to his and Draco sat down. "You gamble?" he asked, and Draco nodded.

"You hav' monnih?" Ivo asked, and again Draco nodded and got a handful of Knuts from his pocket. The men's faces cleared up.  
"What are you playing?" Dimitri asked -in English- so Draco could keep up. Ivo replied by raising his shoulders, as he piled the cards up. "Texas hold 'em?" Draco suggested, causing the five others to frown.


	4. Chapter 3 The awakening

**Part three – The awakening**  
He explained the game to them -slowly and repeatedly-, and then they were playing. First, Dimitri seemed to be winning, until it turned out he had been peeking every time he refilled everyone's glasses. Then Iwan seemed to be making quite some profit, BUT Draco went All-In and won it all back, taking Iwan out of the game.

Draco was the only one properly hiding his cards... and declining drinks every now and then. Dimitri seemed least drunk of all, even though he had clearly drank most.  
Then, suddenly, the room started to spin a little more. It had been spinning most of the time, but now it was getting really bad. Ivo, Goran and Viktor were out of the game by now, so now it was just Dimitri and Draco. Draco was holding something that looked like a Flush, but he wasn't sure because his eyes weren't focussing properly. He had nodded when Dimitri suggested they both went All-In, but now... He really did regret that. Another card was flipped, and Dimitri gave Draco a promising glare he couldn't really appreciate.

"Let's ley down de cards," Dimitri said slowly, as if he was trying to seduce the other. Draco swallowed, took a sip of his vodka and then slowly, very slowly, placed his cards on the table. Damn. His Flush was good, yes... But Dimitri's Royal Flush totally beat him there. Draco reached in his pockets, hoping to find some lost Knut... But no, he had just lost 67 Knuts gambling. 104 Knuts, if you counted the ones he won earlier. The five other men gave each other promising looks. "I'm erm... All out of," Draco said, making a nervous gesture with his hands. "Vam pamotsh..?" Dimitri asked, but Draco didn't know what he meant, though he was sure he heard that sentence before. He shook his head though.  
Iwan, Ivo and Goran roared laughing, now the one who beat them was beaten, but Viktor and Dimitri were dead sirious. "You hav' no hotel?" Dimitri asked with a worried frown, and Draco shook his head. "Is okay, yu can stai hir if yu laik," Viktor offered -with an accent thicker than Dimitri's- as he gave the other men promising looks.  
It was as if someone had pulled the plug out at these words: the room went completely silent, and all eyes were focussed on Draco. Draco himself wasn't very much aware of this though: his train of thought had some delay it seemed, since the harsh fact that he was out of money already not really struck him yet.  
"Here..?" Draco asked in reply, giving the empty, cold room a disapproving glare. Viktor shook his head. "Ve hav' mor rooms. Yu kom an si. Yu can slip hir," he stood up so eagerly his chair fell over, but he didn't care: he seemed anxious to give Draco a place to stay. "Okay," Draco replied, and followed the man out of the room. He felt a little guilty over bothering these people with his presence, but they seemed to insist. Maybe it was common in Russia to display such hospitality towards strangers? Oh, why did he care. He was drunk. After sobering up, he would feel a lot better and maybe he could get his Father to pay them for… Ouch. Painful thought. He had no parents anymore.

He could … He would show great gratitude. Yes. That would have to suffice since his lack of financial resources.

He was dizzy, his limbs felt heavy, everything was spinning, his heartbeat was making his face flush, the walls seemed to come closer and then move away from him again... It was horrible.  
They then arrived in a big room... how they got there was a riddle to Draco, since he paid most attention to placing his feet in front of one another.  
It had black standards with... 'things' on them… He had seen them before, but he didn't care right now. Because there was a mattress. Thank god for the mattress. Yes, soft sheets... Hmmm... Viktor let go of Draco's arm -how long had he been holding it?- and the blonde fell over on the mattress instantly, trying hard to keep the rotating room steady in his mind. Everything was spinning.

Then, who knew how much later, there were voices. All the men seemed to be busy with something or another. Draco was only partially registering what was going on. The standards with... Cameras! Yes, damn, those were cameras! They were in use now…

What the hell was going on!? "Vin…?" No, wait. Vincent and Gregory weren't here. Damn, what was that guy's name!? He knew it, didn't he? Of course he did, good-looking local, practicing his English… erm… Vodka... vodka… "Dimitri…" Draco tried to shout the name for help, but everything was heavy and slow and spinning and nauseating so the words were dripping from his mouth rather than blasting the way he intended.

One of the men, the one with the surrealistically bright Mohawk -Iwan, wasn't it?- stared curiously at Draco when there was a sign of life. Draco was thankful for the attention, though he wished the creep was of more help. Stares don't fix a thing! He tried to get up, tried to hook his eyes in Iwan's to get him to come over and help, but Iwan didn't seem willing to move. He lowered his face behind the… wait… Was he controlling one of these cameras!?

"Damn… Damn bloody hell... damnit... I have to get out... I have to…"

Draco was pronouncing his thoughts to keep them going steady. Just thinking clearly wasn't enough to keep him sane. Or conscious, for that matter.

This raised a certain question though... What woke him up in the first place?

He took a look around to find an explanation -too drowsy to get up- and tried to keep his cool by registering everything that was going on. Panicking was no use, especially not when you're drunk and outnumbered.

All right, erm... so… Iwan was behind one of the cameras…There was another guy, one he didn't recognise –had he even seen him before?- controlling another… There, when he looked in the room behind Iwan, he could see an opened door. In there was a man he HAD seen before... damn... what was his name… VIKTOR! Oh yes, Viktor, he was… What the hell was he doing? It seemed rather… Inappropriate... But he seemed to be shaving his… yeah.

WAIT! Was that Dimitri next to him? Yes, yes, it sure did look like him! And what was he laying down..? Was that… Hmn, nah, probably not.

And what was he -doing-!? He seemed to be washing himself rather thoroughly…

Oh great. Now he was applying make-up. How much a faggot was this guy, anyway?

Damn, how could he have been so wrong about him? With quite some effort, Draco managed to get his eyes off of Dimitri and looked round further. The room was big. Really big. It seemed like a factory hall of some sort. Or a gym, whatever. The fluorescent lights made the place seem colder, bigger, and claustrophobically empty somehow. The small space directly surrounding Draco, his aura, personal space, whatever you want to call it, seemed to insist on staying really close to him, almost taking his breath away. Emptiness had a mass, and it was pressing down on him with full weight. Spinning. Nauseating.

He wanted to curl up and hide and never get up any more, but at the same time he wanted to take up as much space as he could and make as much noise as possible to chase this emptiness away.

There were distinct trails in the dust that showed exactly which part of the building was used and which wasn't.

Good Gods... The 'set' seemed to be used rather often.

Dimitri and Viktor seemed to be done washing up and shaving, and left the room.

And… Yes... Indeed…. What Draco thought he had imagined… His shirt! That was his shirt Dimitri had put in that room! Why the hell was it there? What the hell kind of place was this anyway!?

This did explain something though, Draco realised as he tried to cover himself up with the sheets a bit when he noticed Viktor and Dimitri were heading for him, because... Why else were these people so eager to have him over?


End file.
